


5am

by TheWorkoftheHeart



Series: Papa Zeff and the Little Eggplant [1]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Baratie (One Piece), Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Mornings, Sanji Is Not A Vinsmoke, Sort Of, sleeping, very soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-02-22 22:40:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23768272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWorkoftheHeart/pseuds/TheWorkoftheHeart
Summary: The Baratie considered “closing time” a fruitless effort from day one.
Series: Papa Zeff and the Little Eggplant [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1715152
Comments: 16
Kudos: 157





	5am

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by fanart by the amazingly talented @acellllop on Tumblr! (and ironically, this fic was written at 5am so apologies for any errors!)

The Baratie considered “closing time” a fruitless effort from day one. 

For pirates, hunger worked on a 24/7 schedule; if you arrived at the Baratie, you could expect to be fed, no matter the hour. A chef was always awake, be it the night owls or morning birds, ready with scraps left over to feed the incoming crews. 

For a young child like Sanji, this was a foreign concept to grasp. 

It was around 5am. The first late-nighters were coming in, a slew of pirates with bloody clothes and scarred faces and growling stomachs that echoed in empty dining halls. 

“Another round,” Zeff barked, the exhaustion in his voice an obvious and sharp twang from the regular raspiness that came with constant smoking. The chefs called back a “yes, Chef Zeff,” before scrounging up ingredients and leftovers; pirates were typically far less picky, as long as it was edible. 

As Zeff turned to exit the kitchen, he saw a small head bobbing in the corner by the chopping boards. The only chef that small was Sanji; only 11 now, these late nights were very unusual and strenuous. He was desperately attempting to chop the onions into fine cubes but it was sloppy, his knife thumping irregularly and his head lulling forward with every other moment. It was his first week truly in the kitchen, not helping buss tables or clean up with the occasional hour in the kitchen. It was only to be expected that by dawn, he would be losing his spunk. 

Zeff contemplated leaving for a moment, to just let Sanji tap out on his own and head back to his quarters on his own terms. However, as Sanji’s face began to plummet towards the counter, Zeff swooped in, pulling him into his arms with force. 

“Watch it, eggplant,” he hisses, “do you want to cut your face open?”

Sanji merely hums in return. He’s exhausted, hardly able to speak a word. His body is limp as Zeff holds him as though he were a box. 

Zeff grunts. With careful maneuvering, he turns Sanji around and pulls him up to his chest, allowing him the space to rest his head on his shoulder. Sanji’s head quickly finds a spot to nestle into, and he’s asleep in moments. 

The chefs have all but stopped their cooking, looking to Zeff with amazement in their eyes. A sharp look from him informs them not to stare. 

“Patty, go wake someone to take his place. I have to tend to him.”

Wordlessly, Patty leaves through the back. The chefs resume their cooking as Zeff pulls himself onto the outer deck. 

The sun was beginning to rise now. A damaged pirate ship sat solitary beside the Baratie, and the boat’s rocking could be felt more obviously from outside. As Zeff stood gazing skywards, Sanji didn’t move, simply snoring. 

Fatherhood was complicated, especially for Zeff. But if it meant being a father to a kid like Sanji, well... maybe he’ll give it a shot after all.


End file.
